


Sacrifices

by BG97



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt, Hair-pulling, JYP is a Bad Man, M/M, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Picture Taking, Pre-debut, Sexual Coercion, Slut Shaming, Threatened Sexual Coercion of a Minor, Unreliable Narrator, lee minho needs a hug, survival show era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21751417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BG97/pseuds/BG97
Summary: When Minho was eliminated from the group, he was certain his life was over.Alternatively: The fic where Minho is desperate and JYP is a very bad man.Please, mind all warnings and tags. Stay safe, friends.
Relationships: Lee Minho | Lee Know/Park Jinyoung | JYP
Comments: 2
Kudos: 114





	Sacrifices

**Author's Note:**

> Read all warnings and tags before proceeding.
> 
> Disclaimers:  
\- This is a work of fiction and is not, in anyway, meant to represent a depiction of real events. The events of this fictional work are entirely made up and are not real. This is not meant to be taken as anything I think actually happened. It is important to note that this work could hypothetically be read as "canon-compliant" in that the events of this work hypothetically could have occurred in real life. I cannot stress enough that I'd personally die if I ever found out someone had hurt Minho like this in real life. This is fiction.  
\- This work involves a somewhat realistic scenario and graphic depictions of an individual being coerced into performing a sexual act against their will. I, in no way, condone the actions of characters in this work of fiction. Consent is a prerequisite to sex, and I am posting this publicly with the trust that all readers understand that notion and understand that what is happening here is sexual assault - even if it is not explicitly stated by our narrator. Consent is invalid if there is coercion involved - it doesn't count if you create conditions that force a person to consent to having sex with you. Any interaction is only consensual if both parties give enthusiastic, verbal, and continuous consent to proceed. No ifs, ands, buts, or maybes, friends.  
\- A threat is made that involves the potential sexual coercion of a minor (Felix, when this story was set). This is entirely non-graphic and is written with the assumption that it was an empty threat and not intended to be followed up on, but warranted a mention here, regardless.  
\- I do not condone any actions taken by characters in this work. I do not think this is a real situation that happened. My decision to write this story is entirely based in an exploration of topics within the safe confines of fiction and my own personal attempts to deal with trauma. My decision to post this work is based in the assumption that anyone reading has taken their own internet experience into their hands and has the maturity to read the warnings and tags, as well as these disclaimers, and understand that this is a work of fiction and that they have the autonomy to choose whether to engage with it or not.
> 
> If anything in the above disclaimers worries you, makes you uncomfortable, or you think this might not be a fic you should read for any reason, please click away. I'll hopefully be seeing you soon with some much lighter works <3
> 
> This has been sitting in my drafts since May and I kind of want it away from me. There might be a second part partially written, but I'm not sure if I will continue the story at this time.
> 
> If you're still here, welcome.

When Minho was eliminated from the group, he was certain his life was over.

He didn’t want the others to know how hopeless, powerless, defeated he felt. He knew he let them down, that he had no one else to blame but himself. He moved back into his parents’ home and pretended not to recognize the disappointment etched deep into the lines of their faces. He was getting used to failure, the pain that settled in his chest each night as he replayed every mistake he’d made to be put in this position. The failed auditions, the countless expensive classes that went nowhere… this was his chance and he fucking blew it.

He went back to practicing even though he knew that, by the time JYP was ready to debut another boy group, he’d be too old. There was nothing he could do. So, he avoided the other boys, locked himself in a practice room and forced his body and voice to perfect the performance that ended his hopes of a career at the company until he collapsed, throat raw and lungs burning.

There was nothing he could do.

It was over.

But then he heard the whispers that Felix was eliminated, too, and it all just seemed way too cruel. He couldn’t believe it until he ran into the younger boy the next day, alone, his eyes red. He gave Minho a brave smile and his heart broke.

He’s not sure what he was hoping to achieve by requesting a meeting with the CEO. Minho had made his mistakes and there was no way to take them back. There wasn’t a way to force Felix to learn Korean faster. Nothing had changed, but Minho knew he had to try.

He should have known better.

JYP wouldn’t just meet with any random trainee unless he had a good reason. This was just one more mistake in Minho’s long history and, yet again, he realized it was too late to take it back. He supposed he had options, but his mind was completely blank as he sat across from the older man.

He should be running for the door, or maybe he should curse the man out for even suggesting such a thing. He should punch him or toss the desk over or… something that isn’t staring down at his shaking hands in silence.

There was still a way for him to debut, for Felix to debut.

There are a million things he should do, what others might reasonably do in this situation, but Minho knows he doesn’t actually have a choice. How could he say no? It wasn’t just his future he was being offered, but Felix’s as well. He’s being given an opportunity to fix this, a second chance.

How could he turn that down?

Minho’s never felt particularly comfortable around JYP, he’s pretty sure no trainee does, but the man just… something about him just doesn’t sit right with Minho, never has. He probably shouldn’t be surprised that their CEO is some kind of pervert who’s willing to coerce a barely legal trainee into sex like this.

“I wouldn’t have you here,” The wide smile crinkling his face, the same one Minho’s sure usually has plenty of older women melting, was just making him nauseous. He couldn’t look at the man’s face for too long, his gaze flickering across the expensive desk in front of him, blinking rapidly as he tried his hardest to process what any of this meant. JYP is dead serious about all of this, not an ounce of shame or reluctance on his face or in his voice, “no, I’d set you up in a nice hotel room a few days from now. This isn’t a small favor you’re asking for, after all. I need to make sure I make this all worthwhile, you understand.”

Minho’s actually going to be sick. The producer’s voice is the same as always, that deceptive light-hearted tone that is so easy to get fooled by. Minho’s heard him use that tone to crush other trainees’ dreams before, disguising the harshest criticisms and insults under his friendly, man-of-the-people façade. Now, he’s talking about making Minho spend an entire night in some fancy hotel he’s sure his family would never even dream of staying at, doing whatever the hell he wants to him and Minho can’t say no.

He can’t say no because JYP is right, he’s asking him for something. Something big, literally his and Felix’s entire futures, and it’s all in JYP’s hands. He could ask anything of Minho and he’d have no choice. There could be worse things the producer might want. He could ask Minho for something he’d never be able to come up with. His family doesn’t have any money to give the man. It’d just leave Minho with the illusion of being able to do something, without actually having any chance.

This… this is something Minho can do, technically. He can whore himself out to this man, his boss, and walk away with everything he’s ever wanted in addition to helping his younger former-member, as well. They’ll debut as nine like they were meant to, and no one would ever have to know what Minho did to make that happen.

He knows why he’s… why he’s going to accept the man’s offer, but his stomach is still rolling at the thought, and he feels like he can’t lift his gaze from where it’s staring down at shaky hands clenched tightly in his lap.

The producer seems to sense his hesitation, humming softly, “You know, I could always make this same offer to Felix. Cute little thing like him, seems very eager to please.”

Minho’s blood turned to ice as his wide eyes snapped up to JYP’s smug face. Did he think that was funny? Threatening to proposition a minor?

Felix is just a kid; Minho can’t let this man anywhere near him.

He doesn’t have a choice. He can’t say no.

“I’ll do it,” Minho’s eyes are still locked on the producer’s. He wants to be angry, but he’s honestly just scared, now. Park Jinyoung is still grinning at him, but there’s a shift. This man that’s perfectly old enough to be his father is smiling at him like he’s won, and he has. Minho almost chokes trying to swallow his saliva, his whole body practically vibrating with how high-strung he is. When his voice comes out, it’s small and weaker than he wants to admit, “when and where should I meet you, sir?”

JYP adjusts himself, sitting back in his nice desk chair, steady fingers threading through one another to clasp in front of his chest, but his eyes don’t leave Minho’s for a second, that grin never wavering, “Good boy, I knew you were smart.”

Minho’s never been less happy to be praised in his entire life. He can’t handle it anymore and drops his gaze again, blinking down at his lap. JYP’s breathing seems loud in the deceptively cozy office; it blends into Minho’s own rabbit-paced heartbeat that he’s not sure if he’s hearing or just feeling pulse at his temples.

“Of course, I’m going to need a little more _assurance_ that you’re invested in our deal,” It’s almost too much effort for Minho to lift his head, again. His wide eyes meet a sight that at least some part of his brain was expecting: JYP, that sickening smile still firmly in place, had pushed back a bit more from his desk, enough that Minho could see that his legs were spread. As he looked, the producer’s hand easily and calmly shifted down to adjust himself in his pants, as shameless as he’d been the entire conversation. The jeans were loose enough that Minho hadn’t noticed how… _excited_ the producer had gotten during their meeting, at first, but JYP’s hand now framed a prominent bulge, as proportionately large as the rest of his body.

Minho’s not a stranger to sex, not even with other men. His time spent as a dancer had helped acquaint him with all of that well enough, but he’s not used to situations like this. Honestly, he’d always just kind of gone along with whatever his partners had wanted to do, was used to them being enthusiastic and taking the lead. He was used to feeling comfortable enough to let them. This wasn’t like that. JYP was just sitting back in his chair, waiting for Minho to move.

So, he did.

It’s not like he has a choice.

Felix’s bright smile and goofy laugh bounce around in his head. There’s no way he could ever risk letting the younger boy be put in this position. The stakes have been raised and he can’t afford another mistake.

It felt like a scene from a movie, distant and unreal; the tension in the air palpable as Minho quietly stood up from his seat. His steps seemed to carry him around the desk simultaneously achingly slow and entirely too quick, but he didn’t exactly have far to go and was stood before his boss soon enough. He can’t look JYP in the eyes as he sinks to his knees, the whole situation, what exactly is about to happen, suddenly becoming very clear.

Minho’s really going to let JYP fuck him so he and Felix can debut.

His hands are trembling, but he manages to undo the producer’s belt and jeans. He still won’t look at the man’s face; he just can’t. He’s just sitting there, eyes burning into the top of Minho’s head as he softly palms at the underwear-clad erection before him.

It’s big because of course Park Jinyoung has a big dick. The universe isn’t kind enough to Minho for him to expect anything less. He has to take a few moments to center and steel himself before he can clumsily begin to maneuver it out of the trap door in his boss’s briefs. It’s not until it’s out that it really, really sinks in.

He, Lee Minho, is about to suck JYP’s cock.

_Felix could be the one in his place right now._

The producer isn’t entirely hard – nearly there, but not quite. It’s not… an ugly dick, per say. It’s also not exactly the nicest Minho has seen. It’s pretty long, but not terribly thick, and it’s a darker color than he was expecting. It curves a bit to Minho’s left, which he’s sure will be more pronounced once it’s fully erect. He suspects that might be a bit inconvenient, he’s never fucked around with a curved dick before…

“It’s not going to bite you, Minho,” God, that fucking condescending tone that JYP uses with him and the other trainees has always driven him crazy. He can be so patronizing over such stupid little things and Minho has to stop himself from tightening his grip harshly on the dick in front of him. He’s not the one with power here; he doesn’t get to risk anything that might make JYP pull out of this _deal_ he’s agreed to, that might have him asking after Felix.

He takes a deep breath to try and stamp down his anger and annoyance, but the supercilious laugh he receives in response makes the task near impossible. It occurs to him that JYP thinks he’s some anxious virgin who’s never sucked another man’s dick before, and he wonders if that’s what gets him off, why he made the offer, why he was quick to suggest substituting Felix. He doesn’t take enough time to consider whether he should play into that before he’s steeling himself, leaning in with purpose and dragging his tongue up the underside of his boss’s cock.

His eyes that are probably too truthful at the moment, betraying his emotions, meet the other’s for the first time since JYP initiated this. He tilts to the side to suck the head of the producer’s dick into his mouth, gliding his tongue firmly across the underside of his sensitive glans. The genuine spark of surprise on Park Jinyoung’s face is almost worth it.

Minho’s never exactly minded sucking dick. Sure, he was a bit uncertain the first time and yeah, he’s not really an expert at it, but he’s always found that he can ignore any of the less appealing aspects. It’s always been immensely satisfying to watch his partners fall apart, lose control, underneath him. He likes knowing that he’s making them feel good, always wanting to pick up new tricks to make it even better.

He’s never felt like he wasn’t the one with power. Even when they get too into it, pulling his hair, holding him down, rutting into his throat, he knows he can handle it, and, at any moment, could put a stop to the whole thing: shove them away or even bite down.

Everything about this is so different.

The arousal and hunger on JYP’s face is just making him more disgusted rather than turned on. He doesn’t want this asshole to enjoy it, would never be on his knees, doing _this_ for him if there was any other choice. And the fact that he doesn’t have a choice, can’t just decide to pull off and walk away despite his aching desire to _not be doing this_, makes it impossible to even pretend like he has the upper hand, here.

No, he has his boss’s cock in his mouth because he doesn’t have any power in this situation. He can only hope that he can do enough, please the producer well enough, that the man won’t feel the need to go after Felix.

If he can just get through this, give JYP what he wants, he can keep Felix safe and the two of them can rejoin their team as if none of this happened.

The thought helps. He closes his eyes, forfeiting the mental showdown he’d locked the older man in. He gives up and relaxes his jaw, taking him further into his mouth. He stops before he hits the back of his throat which conveniently is right around where the curvature of the producer’s dick becomes pronounced enough that he’s not actually sure he could take him in further in this position, even if he didn’t have a gag reflex.

He pulls off to wet his hand on the saliva already coating the top half or so of his cock, spreading it down to the base. It’s not slippery enough, so he ducks back down to lick around the lower half, his thumb gliding over the tip of his glans to keep him from getting bored. He can’t let him get bored.

This is all Minho has to offer; if JYP decides it isn’t good enough...

When he decides it’s sufficient, he licks back up the side before taking him in again, his left hand coming up to wrap around the base that he can’t fit in, using his spit as lube to let his hand slide up and down a bit. He’s trying to pull out all the tricks he’s learned, considers taking the man’s sack out of his pants so his right hand has something to do, but he’s already worried that he’s being too clumsy and doesn’t trust himself to pull a maneuver like that off. He settles for resting his hand on the man’s inner thigh, rubbing his thumb there and trying not to worry about whether it’s even doing anything productive through the thick denim.

On one hand, it all feels really mechanical, impersonal. He just needs to get Park Jinyoung off so he can get out of this fucking office and make sure that Felix doesn’t go in. But it’s simultaneously _very_ personal and Minho can’t get himself to ignore that completely. He’s scared, he realizes; he’s scared that he’s not doing enough, that JYP is losing interest. He’s not doing anything, just sitting there quietly while Minho grows more and more anxious that he won’t be able to make him cum like this.

Minho flinches when he feels the producer’s large hand come to rest on his head, encouraging him to bob along his cock faster. He’s angry, frustrated, and upset by the whole situation. He hates feeling like this, so helpless and desperate, vulnerable. It hurts his pride, if he has any left after everything that’s happened, everything that’s currently happening, and everything that’s promised to come.

He doesn’t expect JYP’s fingers to curl in his un-styled hair and yank his head back painfully. He gasps, spit slicked lips hanging open. The man’s dick slips out his mouth and flops back towards his body. Minho watches it and wonders if that’s the final sight of failure of before he’s ejected from this man’s office.

Minho’s eyes trail slowly up the producer’s body. He’s trembling, mind whirling as he prepares himself to have to beg this man for a _second_ second chance.

But Park Jinyoung is just smirking down at him, his right hand coming up to brush against Minho’s cheek before lowering to his dick to stroke himself. He forces himself to maintain eye contact, blinking rapidly against the tears beginning to form in his eyes and the growing panic in his body. He’s breathing too heavily; his heart’s beating too fast.

“I don’t know why I didn’t realize you were such a slut,” The words sting more than they probably should, and he immediately drops his head. Minho was a lot of things, but he’d never call himself a slut. It’d been months since he’d even been with someone and he’d only ever been with a handful of people before JYP.

The man’s tone and expression aren’t malicious… maybe even pleased, which is what Minho needs. He knows he has to want the producer to want him, but it’s still just so frustrating. He can’t even be relieved that his boss isn’t disappointed with him.

He’s so fucking embarrassed.

He’s not a slut, doesn’t want this, didn’t initiate it, but… going along with this does literally make him a whore. He’s exchanging sex with this man for something he wants. He’s literally a prostitute.

He doesn’t want that, this, anything.

Tears are starting to prick at his eyes as JYP pulls his head back up by his hair, guiding him back to the cock in front of his face. He tries to blink them away, but he just- he feels so fucking dirty.

“Don’t worry, it’s very useful in this industry,” He lets out a satisfied sigh as Minho takes him deep into his mouth once again. His words make the first traitorous tears leak onto younger man’s cheeks, “gives you an edge over all the other pretty boys.”

Why can’t he just shut his fucking mouth and come already?

It feels like Minho’s been on his knees for an hour, the joints beginning to ache. His lower back muscles are starting to cramp from bending over the other man’s lap and his jaw is growing sore. He’s tired and he just wants to be done, but the older man is taking forever.

He keeps rattling off dirty words and subtle insults, the flood gates finally opened, but Minho does his best to tone them out. He’s over being an active participant in his own degradation, letting JYP guide his head where he wants it, obediently sucking and licking at the head when he’s pulled back and tightening his lips and rubbing his tongue along the underside when he’s dragged down.

It’s a small eternity before he’s yanked fully off the man’s cock, head held firmly in place by the long fingers in his hair. JYP’s hand works rapidly on his dick, just inches from Minho’s face. He closes his mouth to rest his jaw and swallow the excess saliva that hasn’t already slid onto his chin, but a grunt from the producer and a rough, “keep your fucking mouth open,” has his lips parting wide again.

He knows to expect the first string of sticky white cum, but it still startles him, eyes clamping shut as it lands in a long line across his cheek, nose, and onto his eyelid, clumping his long eyelashes. The next draws a thick stripe across his eyebrow and wets his fringe. The last globs drop directly onto his tongue and his stomach rolls at the bitter taste.

Minho doesn’t know what to do as his boss comes down from his orgasm. His cum is steadily sliding closer to his throat, making him want to swallow on instinct, but the thought grosses him the fuck out and JYP told him not to close his mouth. He can already feel the liquid on his skin beginning to cool when the older man finally loosens the grip in his hair, his hand still resting at the back of his head.

“God, so fucking pretty like this, don’t move,” Minho _almost_ wishes he could roll his eyes at the reminder, but the sound of a fake camera shutter erases anything but panic from his mind. His jaw clamps shut; he barely registers the fact that he’d swallowed the man’s cum as he tries to move back. He doesn’t get much of a chance to recoil before the painful grip is back in his hair, even harsher this time, “what did I just fucking say? You’re really not the best listener, are you?”

He whimpers and can’t even bother being embarrassed by it.

JYP has a picture of him.

There’s a picture of JYP’s cum on his face.

That exists now; evidence of what he’d just done exists.

“You’re lucky the first one turned out,” This can’t be happening. It’s one thing for him to do it, for him to suck JYP’s cock, but for there to be tangible proof just out there in the universe, the potential that someone could find out… something the producer could always hang over him.

He’s shaking his head, tugging against the grip in his hair with little movements, thoughts spiraling as shame and humiliation begin to overwhelm him.

What has he done?

Tears are slipping from his tightly shut eyes, again, breaths coming in tight, little gasps. Park Jinyoung is saying something, but it’s like static is rising in his brain. He can’t- how can he even think of trying to live normally after this knowing there’s a picture? He can’t just pretend this never happened, there’s evidence, something tangible that proves that it did. He can’t do this; this isn’t okay. It’s not, it’s not, it’s n-

_Ow._

His hair is yanked until it feels like the strands are beginning to separate from his skull. _Ow_.

“Minho. Stop.” He sounds mad. He sounds mad, and Minho knows that isn’t a good thing, but it’s so hard to calm himself down now. There’s something, a tissue, maybe, wiping at his eyes. He’s pretty sure the cum and tears are just being smeared around, but it allows him to crack them open. He can’t stop crying, and JYP’s face being in his line of sight doesn’t help.

“Look at you,” the producer coos, tilting his head as he looks down on Minho, limp dick still hanging out of his pants, “such a mess.”

Something in Minho’s brain breaks at that.

He’s not sure how to explain it… he doesn’t stop crying, but… something detaches.

He feels like he’s in a fog, unresponsive, as Park Jinyoung puts a bit more effort into cleaning his face, hardly registers his patronizing voice, his rough hands muscling Minho to his feet.

“Minho.”

The younger man turns his head, blinking; he’s hyperaware of the sticky, tight feeling of drying tears and snot and cum residue on his face, the soft cotton of his t-shirt aggravating the skin at his neck, the swish of his knock-off polyester joggers.

When he meets JYP’s eyes, he looks straight through him, unfocused. “Sir?”

A smile curls on the older man’s face; the same one he had given Minho earlier. If someone walked into the room right now, they’d think he was another delusional trainee begging for a second chance, and Park Jinyoung was the kind, empathetic producer trying to let him down gently.

Minho wants to be sick.

“I’ll be contacting you.”

“Okay.”

Everything feels wrong, simultaneously too much and not enough, distant and claustrophobic, floaty and leaden… Minho turns to make his way out.

“Minho,” the producer snorts, fake exasperated laughter echoing too loud in the dead silence of his office.

“You’re welcome.”

The door handle is ice in Minho’s sweaty, shaky palms. He’s so close, can hear footsteps outside, muffled voices…

He just wants to go home.

He supposes he’s lucky he doesn’t get sick on the sleek, wooden floor when his body jerks into an awkward bow.

“Thank you, sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading to the end, friend
> 
> Questions and comments are always appreciated, either on here, Twitter, or CC <3
> 
> Twitter: [NoahBG97](https://twitter.com/NoahBG97)  
CC: [BG1997](https://curiouscat.me/BG1997)


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